If I could fly, life would be amazing. But paraplegic people say the same thing about walking, and I freaking hate walking. Somebody might ask me, “Hey, do you want to go for a walk?” and I’ll reply, “Nope. But I do want to have a seat on a chair with wheels and roll along with you.” So maybe flight isn’t so cool after all. Possibly birds get pissed off they have to fly everywhere.
Snorkel through our vibrant menagerie of fish and marine life, each one of which has been clearly tagged and labeled for your convenience. Do you think the jokers at Sandals would do that for you? We’ve stocked our ivory reef with disparate creatures from all over the world, creating a lavishly unbalanced ecosystem that you have to see to believe. Often the things that nature never intended are the most fun to look at.
Thor again tutored me in the seventh grade, when I was learning Algebra. Algebra was quite an experience for me. Thor spent countless hours with me, because it was very hard for me to grasp how to pull out a number from a letter. I thought it was an exercise in the absurd. Now I know how to get a number from a letter. The letter is K, as in K Street—where all the lobbyists are in Washington, and the number is billions of dollars.
This book has nothing to do with cats. Or mice. Or self-motivation. This book is 100% 50% finished. But don’t worry, I finished the good half. But don’t be mistaken—the good half isn’t good at all. In fact, it’s remarkably terrible. It’s only good in relation to the half I didn’t get around to writing. After all, the worst writing is the writing that couldn’t be bothered to be written down.
Raining. Oh, brother, a scratch on the fender. Damn rabbi on his unicycle.Wait a minute, where are my car keys? Could have sworn I left them in this pocket. No, just some loose change and ticket stubs from the all-black version of Elaine Stritch’ s one-woman show.Did I check my desk? Better go back inside. What’s in the top drawer here? Hmm. Envelopes, my paper clips, a loaded revolver in case the tenant in 2A begins yodelling again.
I wrote a song called "Stinky Sodomite." It isn't a pop song, a historical song, or a song condemning homosexuality. Rather, it is a children's song that teaches them how to count. In fact, the only time the words "Stinky Sodomite" appear in the song is in the title. Other tracks on the educational CD include "The Ratio of Fellatio," "Thomas Jefferson's Johnson," and "It's Never Too Early to Ask Your Father About His First Erection.
I’m beginning to sense a theme,” Mircea said, tossing his suit coat over a buckskin-covered chair. A moose head with huge, outspread antlers loomed over it, its bright glass eyes looking oddly lifelike in the low light. Mircea took in the room, his expression slightly repulsed yet fascinated. “I believe there is only one thing to say at this point.”What’s that?”Yee haw,” he said gravely, and took me down like a rodeo calf.
The teacher took two long strides and stood beside Parker’s desk. Before the boy could speak, Mr. Earl threw the desktop open. For a second, he stared into it. A white glow reflected off his face.“What is this?” he said, as he reached toward the brightness. “Careful, Mr. Earl,” Parker started to say, but it was too late.The teacher screeched before lurching against the desk. He went down quickly, his feet vanishing into the desk last.
BRETShe looked like a Parisian river..JEMAINEWhat, dirty?BRETShe looked like a chocolate eclair..JEMAINEThat's rare.BRETHer eyes were reflections of eyes..JEMAINEOhh, nice.BRETAnd the rainbows danced in her hair..JEMAINEOh yea.BRETShe reminded me of a winter's morning..JEMAINEWhat, frigid?BRETHer perfume was Eau De Toilette..JEMAINEWhat's that mean?BRETShe was comparable to Cleopatra..JEMAINEQuite old?BRETShe was like Shakespeare's Juliet..JEMAINEWhat? 13?
Seeking a woman who looks like a feminized version of L. Ron Hubbard to help me decode intergalactic messages that I might receive on my Alien Communication Helmet. And after we receive and decode the messages, this female friend could help me make spaghetti with my aforementioned Alien Communication Helmet (it's basically a strainer with antennas). Please don’t send me telepathic thoughts, as it might disrupt transmissions from other galaxies. E-mail only if interested.
Do you like flora and fauna? How about plants and animals? Because we have more of that beautiful crap than we know what to do with. Charmingly domesticated troops of monkeys swing freely throughout our orchid-laden property. You’re probably thinking that a lot of all-inclusive resorts have monkeys. True, but only one resort packs a monkey for each of their guests to take home. You’ll be showing off more than a tan to your friends, you’ll be showing off a gibbon.
I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one's burden again. ButSisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He tooconcludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neithersterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain,in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man'sheart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy
And as they drifter up their minds sang with the ecstatic knowledge that either what they were doing was completely and utterly and totally impossible or that physics had a lot of catching up to do.Physics shook its head and, looking the other way, concentrated on keeping the cards going along the Euston Road and out over towards the Westway flyover, on keeping the street lights lit and on making sure that when somebody on Baker Street dropped a cheeseburger it went splat on the ground.
To save space and money, Thor and my mom work in the same office, which is basically like a converted closet, only smaller. In keeping with the frugal and Puritanical mindset, they even share the same chair. It’s a wooden chair with its back cut off and a pillow on top for padding, and Thor sits on the front half while my mom sits on the back half. Each uses the other’s back like the back of a chair. Thank God Thor’s stooped posture is like an ergonomically designed chair for my mom. He is her recliner.
Love walked in the door like a dusty cowboy, and I looked that cowboy dead in his eyes and said, “I thought I shot you.” And his eyes never blinked, wavered, or watered as he said, “You did. You shot me in the leg. But you can’t kill love that easily. And today you’re going to learn how deadly Love can be.” That was over four years ago, and I’m still alive. So that was his plan all along, to serve me up a super slow death. Sort of like torture, only imperceptible and more pleasant.
